Chapter 18- Off Balance

Knox’s POV

Touching Paige hadn’t been my intention,

But seeing her frozen staring at my cock, her flushed cheeks, and those full, pouty lips, ignited a low thrumming beneath my skin. No girl had ever made me almost lose control like Paige. 

It put a smirk on my face, one I instantly wiped away because none of that mattered. 

Paige was off-limits. Had been for years.

Every time I tried to make nice—which wasn’t often—she reminded me why we’d never get along.

We were both too stubborn. And she had a penchant for always getting Leah into trouble.

But unfortunately Paige had been Leah’s best friend since they were eight, which meant she wasn’t going anywhere.

Whatever had happened in that locker room…

It couldn’t happen again.

“Get your head in the game, Mike.” A loud voice of the coach yanked me out of my thoughts.

We were having our usual daily practice and everyone was playing a mess.

Me included.

“You’re half a second behind every play. You’re missing passes. Your head’s somewhere else.”

“You call yourself captain?” Mike’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t argue.

Coach Preston wasn’t a man you wanted to get on the wrong side of. Two Stanley Cups. A long NHL career.

After everything that happened in the States, he was one of the few reasons coming back here didn’t feel like settling.

“Is this how you plan on playing at Nationals?” Coach skated closer, disappointment written all over his face. “Because if it is, we might as well stay home.”

“You’re the captain.” His tone hardened. “Start acting like one.”

The coach looked over the rest of us.

“Practice is over.”

He pointed toward the locker rooms.

“Everybody off the ice.” Coach Preston yelled, his cheek flushed from the coldness on the rink, his eyes filled with anger. 

Raking my hand through my hair, I let Coach’s voice pull me back to reality.

Enough thinking about Paige.

I skated toward the tunnel, pulling off my gloves.

Enzo caught up beside me.

“Damn, Coach really tore into Mike, huh” 

“He deserved it.”

Enzo shrugged.

“Maybe.” He glanced back toward the rink where Mike was still talking to Coach. “Still… he’s not taking that well.”

I looked over my shoulder.

Mike stood stiffly in front of Coach, jaw locked so tight I thought his teeth might crack.

I slung my bag over my shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here.”

………

After we were done, I headed straight to the parking lot. I was exhausted.

Coach Preston had run us into the ground, and my legs were already protesting every step I took. 

My plan was simple.

Get home.

Shower.

Food.

Bed.

I unlocked my Rolls-Royce SUV and reached for the driver’s door.

That’s when I saw Paige.

She was only a few yards away, walking across campus with her backpack slung over one shoulder.

Something was… off.

Her steps were slow and uneven, one arm wrapped tightly around her stomach as if she were trying to hold herself together.

Even from where I stood, I could tell she was in pain.

Without thinking, I locked my car again and headed toward her.

She didn’t notice me at first.

“Midget, are you ok?”

Her head snapped up.

For a split second, something that looked suspiciously like relief flashed across her face.

It disappeared just as quickly.

“I’m fine,” she groaned. 

I closed the distance between us until I was by her side, when I noticed her shallow breaths and the white-knuckled grip strangling her bag. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine” She tried to straighten, but the movement only made her wince.

“Pretty sure you aren’t, with you curled up like a deformed shrimp” I wasn’t trying to insult her. If anything, this was the perfect opportunity to snark back. Arguing with me always seemed to perk her up.

I watched her bite down so hard on her bottom lip it turned white. 

Okay, maybe the deformed shrimp comment wasn’t as helpful as I thought.

“Jesus, Paige,” I said, grabbing her hand. 

She fumbled for her phone with trembling fingers.

“I just…” she muttered. “I need to call Leah.”

She hit the dial and lifted the phone to her ear. It went to voicemail.

She lowered the phone with a frustrated groan.

“She’s in practicals,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. “She won’t see it.”

Wariness etched onto Paige’s face, “I have to get to work.”

I stared at her.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“My shift starts in…” She glanced at the screen before another pain interrupted her. “…twenty minutes.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Ray’s counting on me.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. Why was she always so stubborn?

“You can barely stand.”

“I’ll manage.” She took one determined step. Her knees buckled.

I caught her before she hit the ground. Should I try to help her, or should I leave her alone?

The question was whether or not she wanted my help. I made up my mind when Paige winced and clutched my fingers, her face screwed with pain.

What was wrong with her?

Fuck it. I was helping her whether she liked it or not. It wasn’t like I was going to go home knowing she was in agony. I wasn’t that much of an asshole.

She went rigid in my arms.

“I’ve got you,” I said quietly. “Let’s go to the school clinic”

“No—” she gritted out, fingers digging into my sleeve. “Home. Please.”

“Paige—”

“Please.”

Something in her voice stopped me. I made a decision I’d probably argue myself out of on any other day.

“Fine.” I slid an arm beneath her knees and lifted her off the ground.

“Knox, I can walk—”

“No, you can’t.”

She opened her mouth to argue anyway—

Another wave hit her before she could get the words out, sharp enough to break into a gasp against my chest.

I’d seen teammates play through broken fingers.

I’d seen guys finish games on torn ligaments.

Whatever was happening to Paige…

It was bad.